Mucho love to all of you reading my stories and telling me what you think, your all great, and probably the reason why I haven't shucked my computer out the window right now.

I don't own four brothers.

There they were. Four guys, four brothers with their own baggage. Jerry had taken to sleeping on the couch for the evening and Angel had disappeared into his room in a huff after ribbing him about La Vida Loca. That left him alone with his thoughts, and his youngest brother, who was still playing softly on his guitar, while a lone tear made it's way down his cheek again.

Bobby looked up at him. Eyes searching, mind thinking. Jack was in pain, hell they all were. But Jack's pain had always been something he couldn't accept. It was, coincidentally the only thing he couldn't control, no matter how much he wanted to.

"What's going on in that head of yours Jackie?"

There was always something going on in there, sometimes asking would lead so silence, sometimes a demand to mind his own business... Bobby knew all the ways Jack could react to a little poking in his brain, having tried most when they were younger. But he wasn't really prepared for the pain and emptiness to be replaced with fire while he looked up from the guitar to take another puff of the cigarette.

He didn't answer, so he asked again. And this time, this time those eyes dropped again, before he all but whispered the words with a strong voice.

"I want them dead"

Bobby almost flinched but soon schooled his face into that mask, the big brother one. The one that told everyone that it was gonna be okay, cause he was gonna make it that way. He weighted his words, knowing what he wanted and what he should tell him. He studied his brother closely, the defensive tilt to his chin, so familiar, the way his eyes raised to meet his, a demand in his own. And he realized... that he was asking, and in all these years Jack had almost never asked him for anything, and he couldn't say no now. It had already started.

When he spoke, his voice was low and serious, a blood oath. "I'm gonna kill them Jack"

And like he'd flicked a light Jack immediatly relaxed at little, his eyes dropping to study the guitar in his hands again. "I know".

Bobby relaxed too. Jack trusted him, and he wouldn't let him down. There was just no way he could live with himself if he did.